Maria knelt in the dimly lit room, the flickering candle casting soft shadows on the walls as she clasped her hands in prayer. Her heart felt heavy with indecision, and she whispered her thoughts to God, hoping for guidance. She had been asked to join the women's movement, led by Frau Lulu and Frau Luttenberger, against the Captain and his sinful establishment. It would take a lot of effort, and the weight of expectation would be great, especially because she was training to become a nun. How could she balance the responsibility of standing against such a notorious figure and her calling to a life of spiritual service?
Was this Your way, Lord? she wondered, her mind racing. Was this how I am to show that I am worthy of becoming Your servant? The women expected much from her, but perhaps this was her test, a divine opportunity placed before her to prove her devotion.
The next morning, Maria decided to seek advice from the Reverend Mother. She found her sitting at her desk, absorbed in a book of Psalms. As Maria entered, the Reverend Mother looked up with kind, wise eyes that had always made Maria feel understood, even in moments of confusion.
"Reverend Mother," Maria began, her voice wavering slightly, "I have been approached by Frau Lulu and Frau Luttenberger to join their movement against the Captain and his establishment in Stuwerviertel."
The Reverend Mother raised an eyebrow, her hands still resting on the open Bible before her. "The Captain?"
Maria nodded. "Yes, Reverend Mother. He has been leading so many people astray, welcoming them into his club, drawing them away from God's light. It's like... like what the serpent did in the Garden of Eden, tempting Adam and Eve. These women believe they can bring people back to the path of righteousness, and they've asked me to join them."
The Reverend Mother closed the Bible gently, considering Maria's words carefully. "I see. And what do you feel in your heart, Maria?"
Maria hesitated. "I... I believe that God has given me this chance, Reverend Mother. Perhaps this is His way of showing me what it truly means to be a nun. To stand against sin, to help those who have lost their way. But at the same time, I know the women will expect much from me, because of my faith. I don't know if I am strong enough to bear that responsibility."
Reverend Mother leaned back, her expression thoughtful. "It's not for me to decide, Maria. Only you can know whether this is your calling. But I will say this: sometimes, the path to doing good is not as straightforward as we imagine. The Captain's influence is undeniable, and while your intentions are pure, I do worry about your safety."
Maria's brow furrowed in concern. "But I won't be alone. The women leading this movement—they're strong, devout. They wouldn't let anything happen to me, Reverend Mother. Besides, their goal is peaceful. They only want to have a talk with the Captain, to appeal to his better nature."
Reverend Mother gave her a long, searching look. "Are you certain of that, Maria? Do you truly know what their approach will be?"
Maria's confidence faltered for a moment. In truth, she had no idea how they planned to confront the Captain. They were fiery, passionate women, and while their intentions were noble, their methods could be unpredictable. Still, Maria felt a sense of duty. "I believe in their cause, Reverend Mother. And I trust that God will watch over us."
Reverend Mother nodded slowly, though there was a lingering doubt in her eyes. "Very well, Maria. I won't stand in your way. But promise me that you will look after yourself. Righteousness does not require recklessness."
"I promise, Reverend Mother," Maria said with a smile. "Thank you for your wisdom."
As Maria left the Reverend Mother's office, a mixture of determination and unease settled in her heart. Leading a movement, even if it was for a righteous cause, felt overwhelming. The two women had so much faith in her, and while that was humbling, it also weighed heavily on her. She wanted to make sure that, in her eagerness to guide people back to God, she didn't become too consumed by her own desire to prove her worth as a future nun.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts. This is my chance, she reminded herself. I must help people see the light and bring them back to God's path.
As she stepped into the hallway, she wondered how the women would react when she told them she had decided to join. She could only hope that their approach to this cause would remain peaceful.
⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻
Georg left the club, stepping into the cool morning air as he headed towards the usual breakfast spot where he and the other men gathered. The routine of discussing sports, politics, and whatever crossed their minds was comforting in its predictability. But today, as he walked down the familiar street, something felt slightly off.
Ahead of him, sitting on the sidewalk, was an old man he'd never seen before. Georg, used to the usual faces of Stuwerviertel, narrowed his eyes in curiosity. The man seemed out of place, his clothes worn yet oddly dignified.
As Georg passed by, the old man's voice rasped out, stopping him in his tracks.
"You."
Georg turned, mildly annoyed. "Me?" he asked, but the old man said nothing further. With a sigh of exasperation, Georg continued walking, but the old man's voice called out again.
"You will know when you've met the woman of your destiny when you lose something most precious to you."
Georg frowned, narrowing his eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?"
The old man smiled, a calm, almost unsettling serenity on his weathered face. "Have faith in that, because this will be the sign. This unassuming little thing—a sign from God, you might say. This woman will come bringing the sun and taking the darkness."
Georg rolled his eyes. "I don't believe in prophecies or destinies, old man. I best be going." Without another glance, he walked away, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. But the old man's words clung to the back of his mind, a strange whisper he couldn't entirely shake.
As Georg reached the breakfast spot, he immediately spotted Max, already sitting at their usual table, animatedly chatting with a few of their friends. A half-eaten strudel sat on Max's plate, his expression lively as always.
"Oh, there you are, Georg," Max called out, spotting him. "From the look on your face, I guess you've already heard the news."
Georg slid into his seat across from Max, giving a quick nod to the server as his usual plate of breakfast and a cup of coffee arrived. "No, actually. Some beggar waylaid me on the way," he said, sounding more irked than concerned.
Max raised an eyebrow, leaning back. "A beggar? Surely, you had more than a penny to offer the poor old man, eh?"
Georg glanced back toward the street where he'd seen the strange old man, but he was gone. Shaking his head slightly, Georg returned his focus to Max. "Anyway, what's this news you were talking about?"
Max took a dramatic sip of his drink before leaning in closer, lowering his voice as if revealing a secret. "The Church has declared war against you."
Georg paused mid-sip, setting his coffee down with a frown. "The Church? Christ, what does this have to do with me?"
Max smirked knowingly and gestured with his fork. "It's a diversion, Georg. A convenient way to turn everyone against you. You've made quite the impact since arriving here. No one expected a man from a respectable family, a naval engineer, to not only live in Stuwerviertel but to thrive here. You're mixing with the people, running a club, and by God, it's getting the attention of all the wrong people. Some can't stand it."
Georg leaned back in his chair, contemplating. He had suspected whispers, but for the Church to get involved? This was new.
"So?" Georg asked, irritation evident in his tone. "Why are they doing this?"
Max leaned forward once again, lowering his voice. "Well, the mayor's got his sights set on Stuwerviertel. He wants to turn it into a prime residential area, making a fortune off the redevelopment. He's got friends in the Church, and no doubt he paid the right people handsomely to organize this so-called religious crusade. They're using morality as a smokescreen. If they get enough support, the plan is to bring in the press and stage protests—about 'cleansing' the city of sin."
Georg's expression darkened. "So, they want to drive everyone out."
Max nodded. "Exactly. They want to paint the mayor as a hero. Instead of being seen as a villain who's throwing people out on the streets, he'll be hailed as a savior, purging vice and corruption from the city. But, of course, the residents—people like Marie and Big Boy—they won't have anywhere to go. The mayor certainly isn't going to let them stay here once his fancy new district is built."
Georg clicked his tongue in annoyance. He knew how ruthless people in power could be, but using the Church, of all things, to mask their greed—it made his stomach turn. He glanced back at Max, suspicion creeping in. "And how do you know all of this, Max? I know you've got your connections, but you've never cared much for politics."
Max shook his head, a slight smile softening his usual carefree demeanor. "I care about you, Georg. After everything that happened to you, I just couldn't sit back and watch them come for you like this."
Georg's gaze lingered on Max for a moment. He appreciated the loyalty, but this was going to be a bigger fight than either of them expected.
Max lowered his voice even further. "And Herr Valenta isn't exactly the most secretive person on Earth. You know he loves to babble, especially when Herr Böhm pisses him off."
Georg followed Max's gaze to the spot where Valenta and Böhm usually sat, deep in conversation. He didn't know much about their jobs, but whenever politics came up, they were always the loudest in the room. Georg had always assumed they were somehow involved in local government or policy, given their fiery discussions. But what Max said next made his blood boil.
"Not only that, Valenta's wife has been assigned as the leader of their campaign."
Georg's fists clenched under the table. "What?"
It was infuriating, the hypocrisy of it all. Valenta, a man who frequented Stuwerviertel without fail, was one of his club's regulars, even indulging in the services of his most sought-after courtesan. And now, his wife was heading up a movement that could destroy everything—the club, the residents' livelihood, their homes. It was twisted.
Max's next words were almost laughable. "They're calling themselves the 'Alliance Against Acts of Evil.'"
Georg let out a bitter snort. "Well, they must be blind if they can't see the evil in their own actions. But I'll give them this—they've got a knack for catchy names."
Max chuckled. "I'll make sure they get your compliments on their alliteration skills."
But Georg wasn't in the mood for jokes. He stood abruptly. "I need to get back to the club, let everyone know what's going on."
He had to protect his people, his home. And the first thing on his agenda? Canceling Valenta's membership. That hypocrite wouldn't be stepping foot in Edelweiss ever again.